


The Bastard of the Rock

by synergyfox



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synergyfox/pseuds/synergyfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A world where Joanna Lannister lived, Tywin Lannister died, and a bastard girl from D'Hara was freed from the bonds of Lord Rahl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Year 276 after Aegon’s Landing

**Author's Note:**

> **Notable Events**
> 
>   * Asha Greyjoy, daughter of Balon Greyjoy and Alannys Harlaw, is born.
>   * Prince Rhaegar Targaryen is knighted at the Tourney at Highgarden.
> 

> 
> **Author's Note** : Once upon a time Cara weighed 1120lbs, however, thanks to ivanolix's amazingly amazing beta powers - she went on a math diet.

_“You’re as quiet as a mouse, Cara.”_  
  
 _“Mice aren’t quiet.”_  
  
 _A cool, gentle hand cupped her face and Cara closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of safety that Joanna Lannister somehow managed to radiate. It wasn’t a feeling she was accustomed to as of late and she would take it where she could get it._  
  
 _“They aren’t?”_  
  
 _Cara shook her head quietly, searching her Aunt’s green eyes. **Her** eyes. Her mother always said she’d been blessed with her Aunt’s eyes. “They’re loud in the dark, they bite hard.”_  
  
 _“The tonics Maester Randyll has been giving you aren’t working?”_  
  
 _She shook her head again and Joanna brushed her thumbs gently over Cara’s cheeks, studying the young girl. “You’ve been sleepless for many nights… you should have told me. I reassured your mother than I would care for you as though you were my own daughter.”_  
  
 _Cara lowered her eyes at that, “I did not wish to be a bother.” It was the truth of the matter, she was the broken one. The youngest daughter of a nobleman’s bastard. Unimportant… and yet somehow important enough for her Aunt to save._  
  
 _Joanna shook her head with a small smile, “You’re no bother, kitten. Now let’s see about increasing the strength of those tonics.” She wasn’t used to being carried, but she certainly didn’t have any arguments when Joanna lifted her gently. She smelled of roses and the silks she wore were soothing to the touch._  
  
 _Far from the scent of leather, blood and sweat._  
  
Bruises faded, bite wounds and gashes scarred.  
  
Cara Mason crouched on one of the many piers of Lannisport, watching the ocean water with fascination. She glanced over her shoulder at the call of her name; her cousin, Cersei, was standing in front of three Lannister guards, hands on her hips with an impatient air about her. “Will you hurry up? I’m not allowed to leave without you.”  
  
The small blonde shook her head and returned her gaze to the ocean, recalling the way the Mord’Sith were sickly on their journey to deliver her to Lannisport. Her cousin could do with a lesson in patience, even if it wasn’t by the touch of an agiel.  
  
A gloved hand touched her shoulder and Cara jolted forward; she would have hit the water if it were not for the hand tightening upon her crimson cloak. “Careful there, little one.” The accent was vaguely familiar to her; Cara’s brows furrowed together as heavy boots fell on the wooden pier.  
  
“Unhand her, woman. You’re touching the niece of Lady Joanna Lannister of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lanni-”  
  
“The Shield of Lannisport and many other titles following that. I am well aware of this fact, you buffoon, and if you had been watching the girl you would have noticed her far too close to the water.”  
  
 _She could be D’Haran with the way she talks to men and how she looks._ The woman was pretty. Very pretty with fair skin, curled, blonde hair and striking blue eyes; her accent was nothing like that of what she had heard growing up in Stowecroft, however. _She isn’t D’Haran… what is she?_  
  
The guard stumbled over his words and Cara straightened herself, attempting to fix her cloak. “I-of course. I was…”  
  
“He was guarding my cousin, m-adame.” _Mistress_ … it had nearly escaped her lips.  
  
A habit of course, she had the air of a Mistress, she just needed an agiel and leathers.  
  
Cara shook her head in attempt to rid herself of the thought; there _were_ no Mord’Sith in Westeros, and certainly not in the Westerlands. The woman gave her a gentle smile and a pat on the head, “I’ll see you again, little one.”  
  
 _She’s Lyseni! I heard that accent when the ship docked in Lys and the Mord’Sith stopped at a whore house._ Cara’s eyes widened in realization and her lips twitched upwards, proud of herself for recalling where she recognized the accent.  
  
-  
  
It was only a few hours before she did, indeed, see the woman again in the company of a huge, dark skinned man with long, black braided hair. He had a pair of blades – one curved and one straight, both looking extremely deadly. The leather wrapped around the hilts were worn from years of use, she’d seen the hilts of a few older knights. Something moved and Cara lowered her eyes, spotting a brown-eyed, freckled girl – bow slug over her shoulder. The woman and the man were both listening to Joanna speak with serious looks upon their faces – Cara chanced a half-smile at the girl.  
  
Her heart leapt a little when the girl returned it.  
  
The Lyseni woman was speaking now with animated hand gestures, drawing Cara’s attention for but a few moments. A look of approval had painted itself over Joanna’s features at whatever the woman was talking about; Cara returned her gaze to the girl once more who was fingering the string of her bow absentmindedly.  
  
“Ah, here’s the little one.”  
  
She could feel eyes upon her and Cara lifted her own, meeting Joanna’s; the older blonde woman was offering a hand and Cara accepted it, moving closer to her Aunt. “It is a pleasure to meet you again, Madame.” Cara bowed her head respectfully; she would not embarrass her Aunt. The woman who was constantly doing so much to help her.  
  
“Cara, these are your tutors, Visenya and her husband, Jhaqo. This is their daughter, Garen.”  
  
A blush crept over Cara’s cheeks when her eyes met the other girl’s once more, ducking her head in embarrassment. Joanna chuckled and moved her hand up to rest atop Cara’s head, brushing her fingers slowly through the loose, blonde locks.  
  
-  
  
“I don’t like that girl. Don’t talk to her.” Cara turned her head, chewing slowly on a lemony weed, frowning at her cousin. They were riding for Casterly Rock and, as usual, Cara was riding next to Cersei. The two girls had bonded on the first night Cara had been delivered by her captors.  
  
 _Cara stood silent in her grubby clothes between two Mord’Sith, careful to avoid the two Agiels. A beautiful blonde woman was in front of them with green eyes and a kind face; there had to be a hundred men in polished armor standing behind the woman in formation._  
  
 _She dare not move without being told to do so, her body was still sore from the Agiel strikes she’d received during the journey here. Every infraction still earned her the touch of an Agiel._  
  
 _“The girl weighs six stones.” Mistress Jillian growled, her red gloved hand coming to rest upon the back of Cara’s neck, squeezing painfully._  
  
 _The blonde woman in front of them nodded once, motioning with her hand almost boredly. Cara watched in awe as the soldiers parted upon wordless command, two armored men moved through the ranks – a chest between them._  
  
 _“This should be sufficient.”_  
  
 _Mistress Sarah moved forward to check the contents of the chest and after a few minutes of muttering the Mord’Sith nodded approvingly. “It’s all here.” Mistress Jillian shoved her forward, snorting when Cara stumbled, landing hard on her hands and knees._  
  
 _The scent of roses surrounded her and Cara tensed as a shadow fell over her. Gentle hands came to rest upon her shoulders and Cara lifted her head, frowning at the sight of a girl her age with golden hair and green eyes. The girl wiped at her cheeks, kneeling in front of her._  
  
 _There was wetness on her cheeks._  
  
 _Crying was a weakness, “Forgive me, Mistress. I do not mean to be weak.”_  
  
 _A courteous and concerned smile appeared on the girl’s face, it was so similar to the one Dahlia had first given her when they first met. Back when Cara still cried about scraped elbows and defenseless animals in need of saving. “I am not your Mistress. I am your cousin, Cersei…”_  
  
 _Cara frowned._  
  
 _Family was not to be trusted._  
  
 _She learned that much from her father when he sold her to the Mord’Sith._  
  
 _“Cersei. Take your cousin to be bathed and tended to by Maester Randyll.” Cara tensed at the woman’s words, even more so when Cersei tried to guide Cara up into a standing position._  
  
 _“Come with me. My mother won’t let anyone harm you. There’s dozens of archers trained on those two women.”_  
  
 _Cara took a breath before looking into Cersei’s green eyes; something pushed her to trust her cousin, maybe it was the look of concern. It reminded her so much of Dahlia._  
  
 _Cersei helped her stand, wrapping a tight arm around Cara’s waist and holding her secure._  
  
“Are you jealous, cousin? Jealous that someone _else_ is paying attention to me?”  
  
Cersei pursed her lips and glowered haughtily, “You’re _my_ cousin. She’s lowborn and shouldn’t even look upon you.”  
  
“In case you’ve forgotten, cousin, I’m as lowborn as she.” The look of irritation that passed over Cersei’s features was definitely worth the hard smack on the thigh she received. “Well it’s true, and you know it.”  
  
“But she’s a _commoner_. Your mother is my mother’s sister. She’s a _noble_ bastard. That girl is a-”  
  
“Commoner. So you’ve told me.” Cara muttered, letting her head drop back as she basked in the sunlight. The seasons were so different here; she’d heard tales about winters lasting entire generations. According to Maester Randyll, Westeros had not experienced a winter in nearly four years.  
  
“Just don’t _talk_ to her. I don’t like her and I don’t want you to talk to her. You’re mine and I don’t want you to smell like the common rabble.”  
  
Cara sighed at that and just shook her head; her cousin could be utterly unbelievable on occasion. Thankfully Cersei took the sigh as one of acquiescence and resumed prattling on about some lord’s son she’d met in Lannisport. “But of course he isn’t as handsome as Jaime. One day Jaime will be a knight and songs will be sung about him.” Cersei sighed wistfully; Cara rolled her eyes, cocking her head to the side and glancing towards her cousin.  
  
“Don’t let Aunt Joanna hear you speaking about Jaime like that. She’ll marry you both off and separate you forever.”  
  
Cersei’s eyes widened comically at the thought before narrowing her eyes in suspicion, “Is that a threat?”  
  
“No.” With that Cara nudged her horse forward, urging it to move ahead of her cousin.  
  
-  
  
Over the course of a few weeks Cara found that her tutoring was nothing like what her cousins ever received. Visenya, the Lyseni woman, tutored in her studies – languages, history, battle and the ways of court. She even promised to teach her the ways of pleasure when she flowered. It was something most learned on Lys, even the sons and daughters of noble families.  
  
Jhaqo taught her to wield traditional Dothraki weapons and once she was good enough her Aunt had one of the blacksmiths create a set just for her. It was the bow that she excelled in, however; her attention to detail and focus was helping her become skilled markswoman.  
  
Every bruise and cut she received was a new lesson, so she made sure never to make the same mistake twice – something Jhaqo recognized and fostered.  
  
 _Fine feathers tickled her cheek as she pulled the arrow back, watching her target for any sign of movement. There wouldn’t_ be _any movement of course, apples didn’t move of their own accord. She took a deep breath instinctively before letting the arrow fly. Cara lowered her bow with a proud smile upon her lips._  
  
 _Her arrow had struck home, pinning the fruit to the wall from the sheer force behind her shot._  
  
 _“Again.”_  
  
 _She never got verbal praise from Jhaqo, son of Cohollo and she preferred it that way. His praise was in the form of a nod or telling her to do it again. Cara learned that fact after the third practice._  
  
Cara closed her eyes as she straddled the stone lion jutting out from one of the highest places she had ventured climbing on the fortress that was Casterly Rock. She leaned forward, letting her arms, legs and head dangle over the creature – staring out at Lannisport and the Sunset Sea. It was all so pretty as night began to consume the day.  
  
“What if you fall?”  
  
“Then I die.” Cara turned her head and peering over her shoulder to squint at Garen.  
  
“Are you so careless with your life?” Her lips twitched upwards and Cara shook her head, resuming her original position, shifting a bit to get comfortable once more.  
  
Garen shuffled around behind her to sit on the stone railing of the balcony. It wasn’t that she was loud; it was simply that Cara’s ears picked up the slightest sound after months of listening for the coming of rats. “I’m not careless. I just don’t fear death anymore.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
Cara pushed herself up slowly, leaning back against Garen’s legs, “Before I came here I was sold to the Mord’Sith for training.”  
  
A sound of confusion escaped the girl behind her, “What’s a Mord’Sith?”  
  
“They’re the elite warriors of Lord Rahl, he’s like the king of D’Hara – the land I’m from.”  
  
“Kingsguard then?”  
  
Cara nodded her head quietly and one of Garen’s hands came to rest on the top of her head. She knew she wouldn’t have to explain further right now, Garen was good at reading emotions – something she herself would never be able to do.  
  
Someday she’d be able to talk about the rats that nibbled at her in her dreams and her father dying by the Agiel clutched in her hand. Not now, however. Not now. It was all still too fresh.  
  
They stayed like that for the better part of an hour, watching the waves crest. When rain began to fall Garen helped Cara over the banister safely and escorted her into the fortress the Lannisters called “home.”  
  
A bath and lots of giggling later found both girls tucked into Cara’s bed; Garen’s mother and her Aunt Joanna had decided to make Garen Cara’s companion since they spent so much time together anyways. Cara snuggled up to Garen’s side, the girl was a year older, a bit taller and always warmer than she was – Garen always joked about how it was the Dothraki in her.  
  
“We should go exploring tomorrow.” Cara yawned, resting her head on Garen’s shoulder sleepily.  
  
“But my mother is tutoring you tomorrow.”  
  
“I’ll finish my lessons early, and then we can go exploring.”  
  
Garen nodded her assent and Cara grinned, leaning up to plant a kiss on the other girl’s cheek.  
  
Cersei _never_ wanted to go exploring with her.  
  
-  
  
She didn’t pay much attention to the tourney with Garen curled up against her, fast asleep; there were many more days of the tourney ahead of them, she could miss out on the first day. They were seated in places of honor near the Lord of Highgarden and King Aerys II thanks to her Aunt’s heavy hand and pulling of strings. Cara _knew_ Joanna would have preferred it if Cersei were in attendance as well but the girl had fallen ill with fever a few days after the arrival of Lord Tyrell’s messenger.  
  
Cara wrapped her arm tight around Garen to keep her from falling over in her sleep before finally lifting her gaze towards the jousting knights on the field in time to see Prince Rhaegar unhorse a Tyrell lord. She brought her hand up and down slowly against Garen’s side when the other girl stirred in attempts to lull her friend back to sleep.  
  
Jaime leapt up and cheered with the rest of the crowd when Prince Rhaegar unseated the man once more, winning the match and effectively waking Garen. She let loose a disgruntled sound and turned her head into Cara’s side, muttering about boys and their games. Cara bit her lower lip and watched as Prince Rhaegar circled the arena, his arm raised in victory.  
  
Maybe Jhaqo could teach her to joust, though she highly doubted that he knew a single thing about jousting. Cara bit her lower lip in wonder, Ser Tygett was an excellent jouster and he always preferred it when she called him Uncle…  
  
A hand came down upon her shoulder and Cara turned her head, panicked at the sudden touch. Garen was up and standing as soon as her brain registered that someone caused her to start. The taller girl drew a dagger partially, whirling to face whoever had startled Cara, relaxing when she saw that it was Leo Dane, third son to Lord Jon Dane of Forestgate. “Don’t touch her again or I will have your balls.”  
  
Cara composed herself and glowered at Leo, eyes narrowing slightly. “What is it that you want?”  
  
She didn’t particularly like Leo; he was always staring at her oddly, like she was a little puppy in need of a hug. “Might I attend dinner with you, m’lady?”  
  
“I’m a bastard, not a lady. The daughter of a stone mason and a seamstress on top of that,” Cara snapped; if she had been fonder of him she was positive she wouldn’t have been so short with the other boy.  
  
“Er… might… I… might I _attend_ dinner with you, then…?”  
  
 _“I want all of you to be polite to him, he has no friends here.”_  
  
 _“Yes, mother…” Jaime sighed, leaning back against the chair with a bored look upon his handsome face._  
  
 _Joanna Lannister looked pointedly at the two girls in her presence, “ **all** of you.”_  
  
 _Cersei’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, “yes, mother.” Cara nodded, a soft muttered acceptance escaping her._  
  
“I don’t see why not.” Cara shrugged and turned to look for Jaime, hand finding Garen’s instinctively. The blonde smiled when she spotted her cousin eyeing a young boy who was tightening the straps of a saddle for a gruff looking Tyrell knight. “Jaime, what’re you doing?”  
  
“I will become a knight one day.” Jaime breathed, smiling at her.


	2. Year 277 after Aegon’s Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Notable Events**
> 
>   * Garlan Tyrell, second son of Mace Tyrell and Alerie Hightower, is born.
>   * Robar Royce, second son of Yohn Royce, is born.
>   * Sylva Santagar, heir of Spottswood, is born.
>   * Tyene Sand, the bastard daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell and a Septa, is born.
> 


_It was always the squeaks that woke her, not the pain. The scrabble of claws, not the bite of teeth. “Dahlia,” she whimpered, but Dahlia hadn’t been there in days._  
  
 _The rats always went for her toes and all she wanted was a hand to hold but she was alone in the cell, smelling only mold and fur and terror._  
  
 _Cara curled into a ball and swallowed a cry, tucking her fisted hands against her belly to protect the soft flesh. The rats squeaked as they found her bare toes and started biting. She cried and could feel the warm blood, warmer than the fur of a hundred horrid hairy bodies._  
  
 _“Dahlia,” she whimpered, but Dahlia was gone like everyone else. And the rats ate at her, and squeaked, and she could only barely keep from screaming._  
  
Her eyes snapped open, muscles still tense from the nightmare. Cara took a few breaths to calm herself – she was in Casterly Rock, not D’Hara.  
  
In her bed, in her chambers.  
  
There was no need to worry; her room was checked on a regular basis for vermin, she even refused to have food in her chambers in order not to attract the vile beasts.  
  
Garen was next to her, she could feel the other girl’s twitching movement against the feather bed. She focused on that familiar movement for the time being while getting her pounding heart rate under control.  
  
It wouldn’t do well to drive herself into panic attack when there was nothing to fear. Cara’s brows furrowed in confusion after a few moments when she felt something warm and wet on her thighs. Her heart began to race once more as she forced her limbs to straighten; Cara sat up, throwing the blankets back in one motion.  
  
Blood.  
  
Cara shuddered in disgust at the sight, eyes widening in horror – her thighs were covered in her own fluid and her night clothes were ruined, the bedding was ruined… likely the feather bed as well.  
  
For a moment there was panic as she attempted to locate the wound producing the blood; she wasn’t in pain so it was difficult, there was merely a bit of cramping in the general area of her groin.  
  
 _Are there rats? Did they bite me? No… there’s no sound…_  
  
Cara didn’t waste a second as she reached her hand between her legs, drawing her hand up after a few moments of probing. Her fingers were covered in fresh blood – she sighed, body relaxing slightly. Months ago Joanna had warned her about her moon blood coming soon.  
  
She shook her head and threw the blankets back, much to the disdain of her sleeping companion. The eleven-year-old blonde placed a hand gently on Garen’s shoulder, shaking her awake.  
  
“Garen.”  
  
“Go back to sleep.” The darker haired girl muttered, rolling away from her with a disgruntled sound.  
  
Cara sighed and continued to shake her bedmate, “Garen.” The tone was a bit more urgent this time and that was enough to make the other girl sit up, rubbing her eyes groggily.  
  
“What?” It came out in a hiss. Garen didn’t particularly like being woken up at in the middle of the night--she was a hard sleeper and it took forever for her to get back to sleep once she was awake.  
  
The younger girl trembled slightly and motioned with her head, eyeing what appeared to be quite a bit of blood. She knew it wasn’t, she’d seen blood absorbed by cloth before. It spread, always appearing to be more than there was – so that wasn’t particularly worrying. “I’m bleeding and it doesn’t appear to be from a wound.”  
  
Garen glanced towards the bloodstained sheets, “You’re a woman now.” She smirked, dropping back onto the bed for a moment to regain her bearings before sitting up once more. “I’ll fetch a few servants; we’ll get everything cleaned up. Nothing to worry about, this happens all the time.”  
  
Cara nodded her head, not bothering to look up as Garen left – she wiped slowly at her thighs, trying to clean the blood from her skin with a fistful of ruined bedding.  
  
It wasn’t long before Garen returned with Septa Lysel and a few servant girls. “Up you get, child.” Cara did as she was told with the faint blush of embarrassment tinting her cheeks. The servant girls moved around, piling the blankets into the middle of the feather bed before carrying it out with a bit of difficulty. A sigh of relief escaped her when she saw that Garen was the one to dampen a cloth from the basin in order to help clean the blood away.  
  
Everything was far less embarrassing now that she was able to focus on her friend instead of the old woman in the room who was so very unfamiliar to her. Garen was familiar to her, she _trusted_ the older girl.  
  
“Now, when you bleed every month you’re going to have to wear cloth so you don’t go and ruin your clothes.”  
  
The blush darkened across Cara’s cheeks, “I know. My aunt has informed me of such things.”  
  
“ _Lady_ Joanna.” Septa Lysel corrected with a voice that was crisp enough to cause Cara to turn her head and Garen to lift her eyes. “You are her bastard sister’s daughter. You will address the lady of this house by her proper titles, girl.”  
  
Cara’s brows furrowed, righteous indignation bubbling up in her tummy at the Septa’s harsh words. “Bastard though I may be, _Septa_ Lysel, the lady of this house has made it implicitly clear that I am to address her by the familial title of _aunt_ due to her _fondness_ for my mother.” Cara snapped in the same tone she had heard her aunt use with the servants whenever they were performing their duties improperly.  
  
A tone to put lesser beings in their place.  
  
It took a few seconds before the tingling sensation settled in and a few seconds more for Cara to comprehend that the Septa had indeed struck her across the face. Cara lifted her hand to her cheek, massaging it lightly, looking utterly bewildered. Her jaw slackened when Garen grabbed the Septa by her the front of her habit, tugging the older woman down to eye level.  
  
She wasn’t aware of where the dagger came from, its tip pressed just under Septa Lysel’s right eye hard enough to draw blood.  
  
“You will leave this room or I will see just how skilled I am with this blade.”  
  
-  
  
“What was going through your head, you insufferable child? You drew a blade on someone of far greater importance than you! Were you touched with madness? The wound you gave Septa Lysel _will_ scar!”  
  
Cara’s eyes flicked from Garen to Joanna as her mind wandered to what could potentially occur. Garen was not of noble birth and Septa Lysel was a Lannister by blood, she’d been Septa to both her mother and the fiery woman pacing in the room.  
  
“I should have you whipped for such insolence.”  
  
Cara’s chest tightened at the thought. “You can’t!”  
  
Joanna’s head whipped around, eyes almost narrowing to slits. “And just _why_ not, pray tell?”  
  
“She was defending me!”  
  
“Are you honestly trying to tell me that Septa Lysel assaulted you? Do you take me for an idiot?”  
  
Cara took a slow breath, stepping forward to draw Joanna’s attention from her friend. “No, well… yes… I… no… you’re not an… I…she struck me but she didn’t assault me. She was…”  
  
“She struck Cara because Cara referred to you as ‘Aunt,’ which you have told her to address you as.”  
  
Joanna came to a halt, frowning she turned to face the fire at the hearth; Cara relaxed a little when Joanna’s arms crossed over her chest. “Garen, escort Cara to her chambers. You are both to be confined there until the coming morning.”  
  
-  
  
Garen made a face as she picked at her bread. “Bread, cheese and water?”  
  
“It’s better than being whipped.” Cara grinned, tearing into her bread with a look of relish. “And you must admit, the Dornish cheese my aunt’s cook made is spectacular. The spices are perfect; they cause a slight tingle rather than a burning of the tongue.”  
  
The darker girl threw herself back on the bed, huffing slightly, “I’ve tasted better.”  
  
Cara smiled at the other girl’s prone form. “I’m sure you have.”  
  
-  
  
The next few days were full of chaos; apparently Lady Joanna had sent Septa Lysel back to the Citadel, demanding a replacement. Visenya had begun tutoring Cara in the ways of pleasure--verbally of course, she was not old enough to learn the physical ways of pleasure. For the moment she was merely learning to seduce with a gaze, touch or word.  
  
But those sessions were for tomorrow.  
  
Cara took a calming breath – she wasn’t allowed to practice with Jhaqo as he refused to train her while she was on her moon blood. Garen was away with her father purchasing something for Visenya.  
  
She wanted to _hit_ something.  
  
Cara sat uncomfortably on the stairs, leaning against the wall with a dreamy sigh. Tygett would be back in three days’ time and _he_ had promised to teach her to joust – so long as Joanna didn’t find out, of course. Her lips twitched upwards as she remembered the conversation with her uncle an hour after the first tournament of the day at Highgarden.  
  
 _“Please Ser Tygett, I swear I’ll be the best squire you’ve ever had! There’s plenty of bastard squires!”_  
  
 _“I can’t take a girl on as my squire, Cara. It just isn’t how things are done.”_  
  
 _Cara’s eyes began to water at the prospect. She wanted to learn to joust! That proved to be the older man’s undoing, however. For all of Tygett Lannister’s prowess as a knight, he could not prevail against the tears of a ten-year-old._  
  
 _“I will teach you to joust, little one, but I cannot take you on as my squire.” Cara leapt forward, wrapping her tiny arms around the knight’s waist. She was sure to have bruises in the morning but it did not matter – she was going to learn to joust. Tygett brought his ungloved hand down to rest upon Cara’s head, making a light patting motion. “Just don’t tell Joanna, eh? She’ll have me drawn and quartered for sullying her niece’s honor.”_  
  
 _A laugh escaped Cara and she nodded against his fine armor, refusing to let go of her uncle. “Thank you, Ser Tygett!”_  
  
 _The knight straightened, placing his hands on his hips as he looked down at the child with a glint in his eye. “But I will have no more of this ‘Ser’ Tygett. You will address me as ‘Uncle’ Tygett from now on.”_  
  
 _“Or what?” Cara teased, looking up at the man with a serious look upon her._  
  
 _“Or you shall suffer a punishment no other has suffered before… the torture of a tickle.”_  
  
 _Cara’s eyes widened in horror. “Anything but that!, Ser-”_  
  
 _“Anything but that, what?” Tygett laughed, hoisting the child up with one arm and tickling her mercilessly with his free hand._  
  
 _“Anything but that, Uncle Tygett!” Cara squealed, limbs flailing until he pitied her and ceased, allowing her to touch the ground once more._  
  
 _Tygett smiled and knelt with little difficulty as he was not fully armored, “I’ll train you to joust when I return to Casterly Rock. I must attend to a few trade agreements across the Narrow Sea.”_  
  
 _“You swear it, uncle?”_  
  
 _“I give you my word.”_  
  
Cara brought her knees together, smiling lightly. At least there was that to look forward to – she certainly didn’t appreciate the constant flow of blood escaping her. If this is what it meant to be a woman, she would most certainly rather be a boy, or at least a knight.  
  
“There you are, little one. Lady Joanna wishes for you to join her in her chambers.” Cara turned her head to look up at Visenya. “You should hurry, you know she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”  
  
-  
  
It had taken twenty minutes to get to the other side of the fortress, and that was with a few dangerous leaps over servants cleaning the floors. Who in the name of the Seven would think to build such an obscenely large castle? It was times like these that she truly missed the small farm her father had had in Stowecroft.  
  
She flopped in a most unladylike fashion onto the only available chair next to her cousin, gladly accepting the offered cup of water from the servant girl. “What are we _here_ for, mother? I wanted to finish my sewing.” Cersei grumbled, crossing her legs and sulking.  
  
“Seeing as how Septa Lysel has… returned to the Citadel. I must take it upon myself to properly educate you both on coitus.”  
  
Cara’s cheeks flushed the same shade as Cersei’s gown and her cousin’s cheeks took on a faint, pink hue. “You have both flowered meaning you are both women now, able to bear children for your husbands.” Both children looked at her in horror.  
  
“Are we to be married off already?” Cara squeaked and a chuckle escaped Joanna.  
  
“No, not yet. You’re old enough to bear children but no man will marry you as of yet. I am looking into betrothing you both. Cersei, you will, of course be betrothed to a noble of a great house; Cara… you will hopefully be married off to a noble of a lesser house. If not that, a knight. Though you are a bastard, you are still a Lannister bastard.” Joanna moved around and got comfortable her chair, taking a sip of wine.  
  
“Now, when a man is aroused his penis _expands_ , which means he is then ready to copulate. Women are far more complicated and men rarely take this into account. Your first times will most likely be rather painful.”  
  
“First time for what?” Cara breathed, scooting back into her chair. She didn’t particularly like the sound of this _first time_ business.  
  
Joanna continued, “When a man and a woman copulate, the man traditionally places his member into his lady wife’s womanhood. He will thrust into you repeatedly while grunting and panting in a manner that sounds something akin to a dog. After he is spent he typically tends to roll over and sleep. This is normal and there is nothing to worry about.”  
  
Cara turned her head when she felt a hand grip hers, sharing a look with Cersei.   
  
“When a man and his lady wife join together in coitus after their first night together, the experience does tend to become rather enjoyable, depending upon the prowess of your lord husband of course. If he has no prowess this is a matter easily attended to. You simply –” The servant girl cleared her throat and Joanna started slightly, taking a sip of wine to clear her thoughts. “You simply take care of the issue by use of your own hand. I will, however, discuss that with you girls when you’re a few years older.”  
  
Joanna continued on for another ten minutes at the most before she allowed Cersei and Cara to leave. Cara scrunched her nose up in distaste once they were down the hall and away from prying ears, “I don’t _want_ to do that with a man.”  
  
“It sounds absolutely horrid.” Cersei grumbled, taking Cara’s hand once more as the duo walked.  
  
Cara closed her eyes, thinking of Dahlia – was she still alive? Did Mord’Sith learn of such things?  
  
“Be _careful_ Cara!” Cersei snapped, tugging the other girl closer when she nearly ran into a pillar. “No wonder you’re always bruised up and injured!”  
  
“No, that’s because I’m not learning needlepoint, I’m learning to fight and kill.” Cara muttered, rolling her eyes and pulling her hand from Cersei’s grasp. “I need to go greet Garen when she returns.”  
  
“You should spend the day with _me_. I miss you; you’re always hanging around that vile little street urchin.”  
  
Cara’s eyes narrowed as she turned to face her cousin. “She isn’t a street urchin and she most certainly isn’t vile. At least she doesn’t talk ill of those around her.”  
  
Cersei retook Cara’s hand, batting her lashes at the other girl with a hurt look, “I’m sorry. I know you care for the girl. I just miss you. I miss my _cousin_.”  
  
Her heart constricted at the pitiful look on Cersei’s pretty features and she caved, not wishing to see such a look of sadness upon the other girl’s face a moment longer. “Fine. But we’re not sewing.”  
  
The other girl’s face lit up and Cara laughed a little as she was dragged through the hall and down the stairs by the over-eager Lannister. “There won’t be a single needle in sight! I swear it!”  
  
“I don’t understand you sometimes. You can be so sweet when it suits your own ends and purposes.”  
  
Cersei glanced over her shoulder with a secretive smile. “You’re learning to fight, cousin. _I’m_ learning to play the game of thrones.”  
  
“Well, don’t play it with me.” Cara muttered, glaring at the back of her cousin’s golden head, “I do not wish to be in a position of power, I only want to do my _duty_.”  
  
Her cousin opened a door with her free hand, nodding her head in agreement with Cara’s words. “Understandable, of course. However, your duty is to bring honor and glory to House Lannister. It’s the duty of every Lannister. There is an expectation and every single one of us must rise above that expectation. From the noblest of lords to the lowliest of servants.”  
  
Cara stared at her cousin, taking the words to heart.  
  
She did have a point after all, and Cara wanted nothing more than to make her aunt proud--the easiest way to do that was also the hardest. It would seem that she would have to learn to play the game of thrones better than all others before her.


	3. Year 278 after Aegon's Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning:** Implied off-screen underage scenes.  
>  **Note:** Snippet of song is a shamelessly altered bit of _Age of Aggression_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Notable Events**
> 
>   * Arianne Martell, daughter of Doran Martell and Mellario of Norvos, is born.
>   * Renly Baratheon, son of Steffon Baratheon and Cassana Estermont, is born.
>   * Alrick Storm, bastard son of Robert Baratheon and a Stormlands girl, is born.
>   * Steffon Baratheon is killed, drowning in Shipbreaker bay.
>   * Cassana Estermont is killed, drowning in Shipbreaker Bay.
>   * Gregor Clegane inflicts horrific facial burns on his brother, Sandor Clegane.
> 


It was a game of ducking, dodging and diving as Cara attempted to rush her way to her aunt's chambers. As of current the servants and household guards were carrying Jaime's possessions from one end of Casterly Rock to the other. Cara had to maneuver around and under them as not to interrupt the current progression. She had no idea what prompted the sudden moving of her cousin's things - not that she had not tried to discover just why everything was being transported.  
  
Not a soul had an answer - or if they did they refused to tell her.  
  
The twelve-year-old squeaked when a guard stumbled, losing his grip on the end of a heavy looking chest. Cara dove forward, sliding across the stone floor with a grimace on her face in order to avoid being squashed by the thing. She straightened and glanced over her shoulder in time to see the guard regain his grip, face as red as a Dornish pomegranate. Cara shook her head and continued onward with barely a hint of a limp, she would have a nasty bruise in the hours to come.  
  
Red blurs passed in her peripherals as she navigated her way through halls and around people. Cara would always be impressed with the raw beauty of Casterly Rock, it did not have the delicate decorations of Highgarden, nor would it ever. That did not stop it from making its own mark - it was strong and cast a shadow of protection down upon Lannisport.  
  
Cara lifted her hand, itching the back of her neck nervously; the last few times she had been _summoned_ by her aunt it had been because she had been in trouble. She didn’t have Garen to keep her strong this time, either. Drawing in a deep breath, Cara brought her hand up - knocking on the hard, wooden door.  
  
A second passed before the soft command to “enter” could be heard and Cara did so without hesitation. It was never a smart thing to keep her aunt waiting.  
  
The lady of House Lannister was sitting behind a large desk, scratching away at a document with a furious look about her. Cara took a few moments to compose herself before she closed the door and cleared her throat, making her presence completely known to the woman.  
  
Joanna did not look up, nor did she acknowledge that Cara was in the room, so Cara took her time to poor water into a finely made glass and clamber into the seat in front of the desk. She remained silent as not to disturb the woman until she was ready to address her.  
  
Time passed slowly and Cara found herself glancing off around the room, studying the elaborate furniture with lions etched into wood and stone.  
  
“I am going to make you Cersei’s protector.” Cara jumped a little, not expecting Joanna to speak - she hadn’t even placed her quill down.  
  
“H-her protector?” The child straightened a little, taking a sip of water to wet her suddenly dry mouth.  
  
Joanna dotted something on the paper and scratched away what could be assumed to be a signature before putting her quill in its holder. “I am going to inform you of something that must _never_ leave your lips again, not even to be whispered to Garen. Am I understood?” Cara nodded, her stomach in knots as she stared at her aunt with wide eyes. “The House Targaryen has wed brother to sister for generations.” The twelve-year-old frowned, not quite comprehending what Joanna was getting at - everyone knew House Targaryen wed brother to sister in order to keep their family line pure. King Aerys II was married to his sister, Rhaella Targaryen and it was common knowledge that if Prince Viserys had been a girl, he would have been married to Prince Rhaegar.  
  
Cara shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not wishing to disappoint her aunt even in this. “I don’t... I don’t think that I understand, Aunt Joanna... _everybody_ knows that...”  
  
“You saw Jaime’s things being moved to the other end of the castle on your way to my rooms, correct?”  
  
Cara nodded, taking another sip of water as she pondered the facts; before Jaime and Cersei had adjacent rooms they had shared a room - but that had been when they were mere babes. She bit the inside of her cheek, not wanting to voice her lack of understanding; Cara lifted her glass to drink again only to lower it with a puzzled frown. “Has Jaime done something he shouldn’t have?”  
  
Joanna pursed her lips. “Your cousins have participated in something only pardoned when you are a Targaryen.”  
  
She didn’t want to say it, if she was wrong the mere implication would lead to far worse than a whipping. Cousins could wed cousins, siblings could wed if they were the ruling family – _nobody_ questioned the ruling family.  
  
A look of distaste passed over Joanna’s features as she nodded her head solemnly. “Your duties will included keeping an eye on Cersei and ensuring that she has no time alone with her brother.”  
  
“What about Garen?” Her heart pounded at the thought of not being able to see Garen again; the other girl was her best friend. She told her _everything_.  
  
“Garen will remain with you, but I trust you to keep the true reason as to why I have named you Cersei’s protector a secret. It will never be spoken of again.”  
  
Cara nodded her head, relief spreading through her - she could still have Garen. “Leo will be placed with Jaime and I will look into suitable matches for my son and daughter. Until then you will be the... protector of Cersei's virtue, as it were."  
  
Cara nodded, brows scrunching together, "And if she and Jaime...  attempt to have coitus?"  
  
"You intercede...  I'm sure you can think of a way to keep her otherwise distracted. You are a Lannister after all.” A look of bewilderment crossed over Cara’s features, she wasn’t a Lannister she was a bastard. “A bastard lion is still a lion, is it not? It still has teeth and claws and it can still rip your throat out just as viciously.”  
  
A smile slowly began to dominate Cara’s features at the older woman’s words.  
  
-  
  
The look of absolute horror on Cersei’s face was enough to make Cara laugh as she continued to skin the rabbit. “That is _disgusting_! Why are you doing that? Why isn’t _Garen_ skinning it for you? She’s your servant. You’re going to wash your hands afterward, aren’t you? Or bathe?”  
  
“I might wash my hands.” _That_ earned a sharp intake of breath from the other girl along with a choking sound.  
  
“That’s barbaric! You’re _going_ to wash your hands. I’ll make you.” Cersei muttered, crossing her arms over her slowly blossoming chest in distaste. “Are you done yet?”  
  
Cara let out a slow breath, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice before cocking her head to the side. Not once did she remove her gaze from her work, “Does it look like I’m done? Have I placed my blade down?”  
  
The comment moved Cersei to silence for but a few minutes.  
  
And then the silence was broken, “It’s still disgusting.”  
  
The blade sliced through fur like butter and Cara’s eyes narrowed angrily as she turned slowly to face her cousin, “Cersei...”  
  
-  
  
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months as Cara and Cersei began to bond; Cara was surprised to find that her cousin was even warming up to Garen, a noteworthy feat in of itself. A heavy hand fell down on Cara’s shoulder and the blonde jumped, turning around to find Jaime pinning her with a hard stare. “Jaime?”  
  
Jaime’s eyes were harder than she’d ever seen before, a chill rolled down Cara’s spine. “We’re going to fight.”  
  
“No... _I’m_ going to mount my horse and practice jousting since Jhaqo and Visenya are away. _You’re_ going to leave and do whatever it is you do with Leo.” She turned and moved to mount her horse only to be forcibly turned around by the boy. “Remove your hand, Jaime.”  
  
His hand fell to grip her forearm, squeezing painfully, “Cersei is mine; I’m fighting you for her.”  
  
“You most certainly are _not_ fighting me for Cersei. She’s your sister. Not mine. Neither of us _own_ her.”  
  
“She doesn’t shut up about you!”  
  
“You’re not supposed to see your sister alone!” Cara snapped, wrenching her arm free from her cousin’s grip. It would bruise but that wasn’t what mattered, what mattered was that Jaime was pushing his boundaries and not in a smart way. “You shouldn’t be displaying such inappropriate affections for your _sister_ in public! You’re not a Targaryen.”  
  
Rage shadowed Jaime’s features, “Fight me. Fight me right here, right now.”  
  
Cara stared at him, wondering if he’d gone mad in his separation from his twin sister. “No. You’ll embarrass yourself.”  
  
The shove that came knocked Cara flat out on her backside and the growl that escaped her was feral.  
  
Cara wasn't a particular fan of being pushed around, let alone of being knocked down. Rage bubbled up within her and it took a tremendous amount of self-control not to draw her sword on her cousin. It wasn't that she was afraid of striking Jaime, she knew very well that she could best the boy. It was the look of disappointment that she would see in her aunt's eyes once Joanna heard about the fight.  
  
She didn't dare mar his pretty face, either - Joanna wanted to marry Jaime off to one of the greater noble houses and she wouldn't be able to do that if Jaime had a visible scar on his features. "Turn around and leave before I cut you down where you stand."  
  
"With what weapon?" Jaime sneered, moving intimidatingly close to Cara once more. "Pick one, we'll settle this cleanly and honorably." She couldn't tell if that was mirth in his eyes or not as he carried on, attempting to goad her into a fight. "Are you afraid I'll best you? Are you a _coward_ , Cara?"  
  
That did it.  
  
"Fine. We'll do this honorably." Cara snapped, not even sure why they were truly fighting; she would not, however, promise to fight fair.  
  
She had no interest in bedding Cersei, contrary to Jaime's belief. Jaime's lips twitched up in a smirk, "Choose your weapon." Jaime drew his sword slowly from its scabbard.  
  
Cara arched a brow and smirked a little, "it wouldn't be fair if I used a bow, now would it. We'll just have to do this in civilized fashion." She turned only to find Garen standing there, _arakh_ in hand. "How long have you been standing there?"  
  
"Long enough to hear your cousin call you a coward; Cersei is with Tyrion in Lady Joanna's chambers. Apparently she wanted your cousins to bond... especially after the incident with Tyrion regurgitating his food on Cersei's new gown." Garen was still smirking and Cara took the weapon.  
  
Swords clashed the moment Cara turned around to face Jaime; he was stronger than she was and that caused her to stumble backwards slightly under his weight.  
  
It wasn't long before first blood was drawn and Jaime was gripping his upper arm, a look of shock on his features. They had never trained together before and Cara was certain he had no idea how to best her fighting style. It was nothing against his technique, of course. He fought like a noble Westerosi knight and she a Dothraki warrior. The styles were so dissimilar that Cara had the clear advantage. Westerosi knights fought stiffly, they didn't move with their weapon, didn't throw themselves fully into the fight - didn't let passion rule their reason. Dothraki warriors were wild and freely threw themselves into battle; they let instinct take over.  
  
This was why she was Jhaqo's student and not the student of some other warrior. Not the student of some _knight_.  
  
She fought like a wild animal, untamed and out for blood.  
  
Cara dropped to a knee as Jaime swung his sword in a lethal arch towards her head and brought her _arakh_ up in a swift motion.  
  
Blood spattered across Cara's face and she looked up, eyes as wide as Jaime's. Her cousin stumbled back, hand moving to his chest as he attempted to stop the blood flow. It wasn't a deep wound but he would need a maester's attention soon.  
  
"You have to teach me how to do that," Jaime breathed out as he fell flat on his backside, still in shock.  
  
-  
  
 _Cara giggled and wrapped her arms tight around Dahlia’s waist as the festival went on; her father was singing jovially with the rest of the men, ale spilling from cups._  
  
 _“We’re the children of D’Hara and we fight all our lives._  
 _And when the Keeper beckons, every one of us dies!_  
 _But this land is ours and we’ll see it wiped clean._  
 _Of the scourge that has sullied our hopes and our dreams.”_  
  
 _Dahlia tugged her up and they jumped around with the other children, laughing and cheering and adding to the songs whenever they knew a line here or there. Her sister was dancing with some older boy while Dahlia’s brother looked on in brooding silence. “I think your brother should ask my father for my sister’s hand!” Cara grinned and Dahlia let loose an excited squeal, throwing her arms around Cara’s neck._  
  
 _“He should!”_  
  
 _Huge arms wrapped around the duo and lifted both girls into the air, electing squeals and squeaks. “Here are two of my favorite girls in all of Stowecroft!”_  
  
 _“Father!”_  
  
 _“Mister Sam!” Dahlia laughed, squirming around to wrap an arm around his neck, reassuring herself that she would not fall._  
  
 _“What are you two planning over here? I saw you whispering and giggling.” Sam Mason laughed, carrying them both to one of the benches._  
  
 _Cara grinned when her feet touched down on the hard wood of the tabletop, “Sirian is going to ask you for permission to marry Gracey!”_  
  
 _“When he’s older! He wants to save money up so he can build a house and have land!” Dahlia exclaimed, dancing around on the table with excitement._  
  
 _“Oh he is, is he?” Sam laughed, eyes twinkling as he watched the two girls._  
  
 _“Yes! Don’t be too mean!”_  
  
 _Sam shook his head with another laugh, pulling his daughter in for a tight hug. “I’d not dream of it! Now off with you both, I’m sure you could probably get your grubby little hands on some of my dear wife’s wild berry pie.”_  
  
 _“Missus Sofia made pie?!” Dahlia was off faster than a wizard could conjure fire, scrambling between legs and over wagons._  
  
 _“No fair! Come back!” Cara shouted, scampering after her friend – tiny arms flailing._  
  
Cara jerked awake, face buried against something soft. The twelve-year-old lifted her head, a look of confusion spreading across her features. Her back burned and stung all at once making her entirely uncomfortable.  
  
“Rest.”  
  
Cara lifted her head up some, only becoming more confused – Cersei was in her room, Garen was not.  
  
Something was being applied to her back and once the healing  properties began to soak in Cara relaxed against the plush bedding. She buried her face against the feather-stuffed pillows, enjoying the application of the soothing ointment being dabbed against her back. She had no idea where Garen was or why Cersei was the one tending to the fresh wounds on her back but as of right now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that the ointment was soothing the pain away.  
  
-  
  
 _"You could have killed my son! My son!"_  
  
 _It took a lot to refrain from making a snarky comment about how such a light wound wouldn't have ended Jaime's life. It probably wouldn't even scar if the maester attended to it properly._  
  
 _Which it would be, the maester of House Lannister would never settle for anything less than perfect._  
  
 _At least she didn't injure his face..._  
  
 _"Any other person would be put to death for their stupidity."_  
  
 _Cara's throat tightened as she watched her aunt in silence, she didn't want to provoke the wrathful woman further._  
  
 _"I have to punish you, I know that he challenged you to a fight but you never should have taken him up on it." She could do nothing but nod, arguing with her aunt would only lead to something far more painful for her._  
  
 _Cara closed her eyes, waiting patiently for Joanna to deliver her punishment. "You will be whipped."_  
  
-  
  
Cersei's touches were confident yet still had a gentleness to them that did not aggravate the angry welts upon her back.  
  
"You fought Jaime for me."  
  
Cara didn't have the heart to correct her cousin, to tell her that the only reason she fought Jaime was because he had called her a coward. It would only serve to make Cersei disappointed and if there was one thing Cara disliked, it was causing her beautiful cousin any type of pain.  
  
"He seems to think you're attached to me." Cara mumbled against the pillows, letting loose a soft sigh of pleasure as Cersei began to administer a new ointment. This one caused a cooling sensation that pleased Cara tremendously.  
  
The hands at her back halted momentarily before resuming their previous motions, "One cannot help but be fond of you, Cara."  
  
A smile managed to sneak its way onto Cara's features, "I suppose the same holds true for you. I have an odd fondness for you." The smile left as quickly as it came.  
  
It was the same fondness she had had for Dahlia prior to Joanna saving her from the Mord'Sith. Prior to being freed of the bond Lord Rahl had over all D'Harans. The bed shifted slightly as Cersei moved, lying next to her on the large bed. Cara turned her head to speak to her cousin better only to have soft lips press against hers.  
  
When Cersei pulled away both of their cheeks were flushed. "Why did you do that?"  
  
"The victor always wins the kiss in the songs." Cersei said, lowering her head to kiss Cara once more. “But you’re going to get more than what they get in the songs.  
  
The only coherent thought she could muster after was a praise to the Old Gods and the New for giving such just rewards to victors.


End file.
